by J. P. Bowie
Every time I closed my eyes I saw Joseph’s face, and I was plunged into the depths of despair at the thought that I would never see him again. It would have been so easy to go along with what Roger and Ron had suggested—that I stay on in Paris for a time, to let the dust settle so that I could think things through more rationally. But there was nothing rational about anything that had happened to me—to all of us—in the past few days. And try as hard as I might, I just couldn’t forget what Darius had done to me or the shame I felt each time I remembered how easily I had let him make love to me.
Joseph had explained that the jerk had cast some kind of spell over me. That the black magic he’d gleaned from his association with the Wizard Brotherhood had made it
impossible for me to resist him, yet, deep inside me, I really did feel that I should have been able to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I let him fuck me. And to make my feeling of shame even harder to shake off—I had enjoyed it. Yes, I had been hypnotised or under some spell, and that should have made me feel better, I suppose, but it didn’t. And God alone knows what would have happened to me if Marcus and Joseph hadn’t shown up when they did.
Nevertheless, I was afraid that my feelings during that sexual encounter with Darius would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I groaned aloud at the memory of it, and Ron covered my hand with his.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Bad thoughts?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
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“The worst. I just can’t stop thinking about that creep, Darius. He’s totally screwed with my mind, Ron. I keep thinking that somehow he’s still able to get inside my head.”
Ron looked at me, concern clouding his face. “Did you tell Joseph this?”
I nodded. “He said Marcus and he would try to block the thought transference, but quite honestly Ron, I believe Darius is just way too powerful. I can only pray that eventually he’ll get bored with it and leave me alone.”
“Micah…” Ron sounded hesitant.
“What is it?”
“Something Jean-Claude said before we left. He said that if Joseph had used his power over you, you would never have wanted to leave. He said that Joseph loved you too much to take away your will to make the right decision.”
“Oh, Ron…” I choked back a sob. “I’m just never going to get over him.”
“Maybe you won’t have to,” he said, rubbing the back of my hand. “Just give it a little time.”
We fell silent again, and I was left to agonise again over my decision to leave Joseph. A part of me wanted to jump on the next plane back to Paris as soon as we landed in Los Angeles, yet another part—the scaredy-cat part of me—knew I wouldn’t. I’d go home to my apartment, let Rhonda know I was back, go look for a job and try to put my life back together…without Joseph.
Was I nuts? This wasn’t like before when Robert left me. I’d been upset, and mad and lonely—but this. This feeling of dark despair settled over me like a black cloud each time I thought of not seeing Joseph again, not feeling his lips on mine, or his hands on my bare skin, or his soft sweet voice as he whispered words of love in my ear. How could I live without that—without him?
That first night back in my apartment almost broke my initial resolve not to call Joseph for a few days. Ron had wanted me to let Joseph know we were back safe, but I reminded him that Joseph would know that without my calling.
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“Well, why don’t you come spend the night at my place?” he’d asked. “Jean-Claude won’t be back ‘til tomorrow, and I don’t like the idea of you being on your own tonight.”
“That’s sweet Ron, but I’ll be fine. The sooner I get used to being on my own again, the better.” I didn’t believe a word of what I’d just said, and from the look on his face, Ron didn’t either, but he hugged me, and said, “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”
My apartment felt bleak and cold, but I knew that was just because of the mood I was in. Rhonda wasn’t home when I knocked on his door, so I left a note saying I was back, and I’d love to see him when he had time. I called my mother to tell her I was back and I would come see her at the weekend. She asked if I’d had a nice time in Paris and I replied, “A wonderful time, Mom. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.” Well, a mighty censored version so she wouldn’t faint dead away listening to what her darling son had been up to in La Belle France. Then I realised I hadn’t even brought her a souvenir—talk about your self-absorbed, self-pitying drama queen.
The night, of course, brought me it’s own brand of torture. Each time I awoke from the vision of Darius leaning over me, staring into my eyes, murmuring words I couldn’t understand, I willed myself to try to stay awake. Awake, I could concentrate on thoughts of Joseph, of the wonderful hours I had spent in his arms, of the heart-stopping adventures we had shared. But then my exhausted mind would be taken over by the need for sleep, and once more, I would have to face the darker side of me and relive those moments when I had given myself to Darius. When I had betrayed my love for Joseph…
About the fifth or sixth time that I awoke, shivering and sweating from the ordeal of feeling Darius’ hands on my skin, his lips on my throat, his eyes boring into mine as he attempted to soul-bond with me, I couldn’t take it any longer. With an angry curse, I pushed myself from my bed and headed for the shower. The hot rush of the spray washed away the fevered sweat from my skin, but nothing could take away the images of Darius that swirled in my head like some manic slide show.
I made some coffee, and as I waited for it to brew, I glanced at my watch. Seven. Europe was what? Eight hours ahead of LA? It would be three in the afternoon there. Joseph would be asleep—all of them would be asleep. Maybe later, I would call Roger. Suddenly, I felt alone, isolated from the men who had so quickly become my friends and confidants – and DUET IN BLOOD
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now, even more quickly, were lost to me. The coffeemaker beeped, and I gave myself a little shake, trying to free myself from these morbid thoughts.
Today, I had to look for a new job—or should I try calling Bob, my district manager and see if he’d gotten over his hissy fit? Mmm, better not. Maybe a fresh start was what I needed.
Something to challenge me and help me get over losing Joseph. Oh, who was I kidding?
Nothing would ever help me get over that. Nothing. Ron had said Joseph could have used his powers to stop me from leaving.
Now, I wished more than anything that he had done just that. For despite everything that had happened in the last two days, I knew I loved Joseph—and nothing, not even the fact that loving him had placed me in mortal danger, could change that.
That evening Rhonda came to call. “Welcome home, child,” he yelled, hugging me to his hard wall of a chest. “Just as well you left me that note, or I was goin’ to call the cops. I was beginnin’ to think that jerk you used to shack up with had done you in!”
I laughed and kissed his cheek. “I don’t think I’ll be hearing from Robert again, Rhonda,” I told him as we sat together on the couch. “He got a bit of a shock a few nights ago…”
“What…your new beau stepped on him real hard?”
“No…”
“So, where is he?”
“Where’s who?’
“You know who…your main man, your gentleman caller, that fine lookin’ dude I
would have stolen from you if I wasn’t such a refined lady.” Rhonda frowned when I didn’t as much as smile at his repartee. “What’s wrong Micah, honey?”
“I’ve been to Paris,” I said.
Rhonda’s eyes swivelled to the ceiling. “Paris! And you look like someone just stepped on your foot. Honey, you’d better notify your face that you’ve just been where people go to have the time of their lives!”
Despite myself, I smiled. “It should’ve been the happiest
time of my life. It started out crazy, but then it got better—better than better, really.”
“You were with Joseph, right?”
“Yes, and that was really wonderful—”
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“Then what in hell’s the matter with you?’
“Something happened…something terrible. Something I can’t let go of or come to terms with.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Rhonda took my hand. “Tell me about it, honey. It might make you feel better to get it off your chest.”
“I can’t tell you Rhonda. For one thing, you wouldn’t believe a word of it.”
“Try me.”
I shook my head. “Let me just tell you that Joseph and I are no longer together. I came back alone…well, actually my friend Ron travelled with me. But Joseph and I…”
Rhonda stared at me aghast. “Are you shittin’ me? Are you telling me that you have given that gorgeous man the brush off? What are you? Some kind of a nutcase?”
“Rhonda,” I protested. “You don’t understand. There were just too many things in the way.”
“What? Another man?”
“No…”
“He has a tiny dick?”
“No!”
“Well then, what the hell else could it be? He’s gorgeous, single and obviously has a big one, if that ‘No!’ means what I think it means. So, what am I missing here?”
“I can’t tell you, Rhonda. You’d think I’d gone looney-toons.”
He grimaced, shaking his head. “Honey child, I already think that. You’re sitting there with a face that looks like it’s seen shit on the carpet, yet you’ve just come back from Paris where you’ve been with the man you love. And don’t deny it, Micah. I know you love that man. I’ve seen it in your eyes—I still see it in your eyes, red-rimmed though they might be.
So come on, what’s the deal here?”
I looked at him…at his big face with its smooth mahogany skin, at his big brown eyes, unusually devoid of any mascara or liner, and I imagined it all crumpling into shocked disbelief when I said the words, He’s a vampire, Rhonda.
“He’s a vampire, Rhonda.”
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Instead of crumpling, Rhonda’s face became a stony mask with no expression
whatsoever. He stared at me without saying a word, then he blinked slowly, once, twice, and cleared his throat.
“Honey, that is the lamest excuse for not seeing a man that I have ever heard.”
“It’s true, Rhonda. Joseph is a vampire!”
“Better a vampire than that shit-head Robert you used to pine over.”
Now it was my turn to blink. “Are you serious?”
Rhonda leaned back into the sofa pillows and studied me for a moment or two. Then he said, “Honey, my grandma was a witch, straight outta the Bayou, so I know a thing or two
‘bout the supernatural. She told me there were ‘beings’ that few people knew anything about.
She told me I had the ‘sight’, and that I would recognise those ‘beings’ if I ever came across them. Now I know what it was I saw in Joseph that set him apart from other guys. I thought I sensed something different about him. I thought it was his gracious manners—somethin’ you don’t see too much of these days.”
“Are you saying you knew?”
“No, I’m not sayin’ that. I’m sayin’ I’m not surprised.” He took my hand again. “Honey, I know this can’t be easy for you. Shit, even I would have to make big adjustments to deal with it. But if I loved him enough, I would.”
“I thought that, too,” I said, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “Believe me, Rhonda, I thought I could handle it. My friend Ron…” I stopped, wondering if I was telling Rhonda too much.
“Ron is a vampire?”
“No, no…he’s just been real supportive. He’s met Joseph and knows the story.”
“And thinks you shouldn’t have left Joseph.”
“He understands the difficulties, but it’s not just that. Something happened…”
“You said that. Something Joseph did?”
“Oh God, no. He’s been nothing but loving and sweet and caring and—oh Rhonda, I
miss him already, but, I just can’t get over this thing.”
“What thing, honey? The fact he’s a vampire?”
“No…incredible as that is, I had come to terms with it.”
“Then, what?”
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I drew a deep breath and gazed at the concerned expression on Rhonda’s face. “I was abducted, I guess you’d call it that, by this vampire who is Joseph’s enemy. See, there’s a faction of vampires called the Dark Forces…”
Rhonda listened intently as I related the story of how Darius got me into his lair in Paris, cast a spell over me, and forced me to have sex with him.
“Well, not forced, exactly…” I had to stop and clear my throat before I could go on.
“See…that’s the part I have such a problem with. At the start, I was really into it. He was beautiful, honey-voiced, sexy as hell, and I went for it. I know now that it was because of his power over me that I was so willing, but Rhonda, I just feel as though I betrayed Joseph in the worst possible way. Only the night before, he and I had the most wonderful sex in the world, then just a few hours later, I’m sucking on this other guy’s dick—and loving it! I can’t forget it. It’s like Darius is in my head telling me that I will never forget him or what we did.
That I’ll never be free of him.”
Rhonda put his arms around me and held me close. “You poor baby…but Joseph,
didn’t he tell you that you both could get beyond all that?”
“Oh yes, he laid down every excuse in the book that I could use. Darius had cast a spell over me…he had taken me against my will…he had used magic to make himself even more alluring, more irresistible, and to lower my resistance to him.”
“Well then…”
“But Rhonda…” I pulled back from his arms and looked into his eyes. “Don’t you get it? If I was truly in love with Joseph, I would never have weakened enough to start enjoying what was happening. That’s what I keep telling myself, over and over.”
“No!” Rhonda shook me gently. “That’s what that mother-fucker, Darius, is telling you.
Didn’t you just say he was inside your head all the time? That’s what he’s doin’ to you, honey. He’s messin’ with your brain and your feelings for Joseph. Son-of-a—I’d like to meet this mutha and kick his ass!”
“That I’d love to see.” I smiled at my friend and leaned back on the sofa. “God, I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“You got any liquor in this place?”
“Uh, just some beer in the fridge. Sorry, I should’ve asked…”
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“Not for me. You need a drink to mellow you out some. I got some Scotch upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
“No, that’s okay—”
“Hush, and listen to your big sister. A drink’ll do you a power of good.”
He hadn’t been out the door two seconds when the phone rang. I let the machine pick up.
“Hello, Micah…”
Joseph.
I started to get off the couch in a hurry then stopped, listening to the sound of his deep, husky voice. “Ron called to say you were both home safely. He said you still seem troubled by all that has happened, especially with Darius. My love…”
My heart trembled to hear him call me that again.
“My love…I know this has been a terrible experience for you, and I would give
everything in my power to make it better, to take away the pain and the terrible memories.
Just know this…I love you, and I always will. There will be no other love for me. When your are able to talk with me again, pl
ease call me…please.”
Transfixed, I listened to the dial tone after he had hung up. Why hadn’t I picked up and talked to him? Why was I being such an idiot?
“You all right, honey?” Rhonda’s voice made me jump.
“Joseph called,” I said weakly.
“And what did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I didn’t pick up.”
“Child! You are solving nothing by being like this.” He marched into my kitchen, grabbed two glasses out of a cabinet, threw in some ice, then slopped a large amount of Scotch into each glass. “Here, drink this!” he barked at me, thrusting one of the glasses almost into my face. “You need to lighten up, honey. Now, swallow that down, and I’ll pour you another!”
I sipped and coughed. Scotch has never been my drink of choice, but I kinda liked the way it burned going down—and the immediate buzz if gave me. Maybe this was what I needed. I tossed the rest back and held out my glass.
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Rhonda grinned at me as he poured another shot. “There, now don’t that make you feel better?”
“Much,” I said, my head spinning. “Let’s go out…paint the town red or something.”
His laughter was raucous. “Child, you are somethin’ else, but you’re not ready for the bright lights just yet. Tomorrow night maybe. I have a gig at Chester’s. You could come with me and catch the show. How ‘bout that?”
“It’s a date,” I said, swallowing the last of my Scotch. “Whoa…” I sat back on the couch.
“I think I’m a little drunkie…”
Rhonda chuckled and took my glass. “You are the cutest thing. Now, lie back there, and let Rhonda’s sleepin’ potion take over.”
I yawned mightily, my jawbones cracking with the strain. “Sleepin’ potion?”
He bent and kissed my forehead. “Sweet dreams, honey child. Sweet dreams…”
I was floating, somewhere high in the clouds, the city of Paris laid out below me, bathed in shimmering lights. I rolled over and floated on my back, gazing up at the moon that seemed to be smiling at me.
